


i'll pay my weight in blood

by paildramon



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Blood, Dark Area | Dark Ocean, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Therapy, but then it became a full blown story, daiken, daisuke being a supportive bf, poor wormmon is so worried, so uhh, this is basically a vent fic im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-06-08 16:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paildramon/pseuds/paildramon
Summary: "I hope you feel the weight of a million deaths on your shoulders!"He does. He has for years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first published fanfiction so uh this is all new to me! I have no idea if i'm good at writing or not, so i'd appreciate some constructive criticism in the comments! i'm not finished with this fic yet; i have the first 10 chapters done so far, but i have a basic plan for where this is going. also i don't have an editor and im shit at editing my own stuff so sorry about mistakes or just bland writing! also they're prob really ooc whoops

It’s been four years since the final showdown against MaloMyotismon. Most of the crew are eighteen, Iori being sixteen and Miyako being nineteen. They all go to school within the Tokyo area. Daisuke and Ken had a plan to live in the same dorm -- until Daisuke got a rejection letter from Ken’s college of choice.

So Ken said okay, we can both go to the one you were accepted to — but Daisuke adamantly refused. He wanted Ken to achieve his dreams without Ken holding him back. “You aren’t holding me back,” Ken assured him. But still, Daisuke practically begged him to go. So, Daisuke decided to go to a local culinary school. It’s an hour’s drive away from Ken’s university, so it isn’t that bad, even though Ken wants to be with Daisuke all the time. During the summer and after they graduate, Daisuke always assures him.

Ken’s life is good. His and Daisuke’s relationship is as strong as ever, he has a fulfilling education, he sees his friends — the other Chosen — at least once a month, so why is he like this?

This being numb and shaking on the cold bathroom floor with a razor hovering an inch above his skin.

Part of my life was stolen from me, he thinks angrily, as if it’s an entirely new thought. Like to hasn’t crossed his mind a million times before.

(It has.)

The Dark Spore made him something he wasn’t. He didn’t really _live_ during that time, when it was flourishing in his body and feeding off his emotions. But being by Wormmon’s side, being in Daisuke’s arms, that felt like living. As the Kaiser he wasn’t able to feel much. But now? Most times it’s too overwhelming. Anger, stress, worthlessness, love — the list goes on. That’s why he hurts sometimes, to take his mind off things. It started with slightly burning himself, digging his nails into his skin, and hitting himself against the wall to form bruises. He never meant for it to do this far. It wasn’t supposed to. It was supposed to be a controlled thing to help him feel better. Now he can’t go a week without bleeding in some sort of way.

That’s what brought him here, defeated in the floor.

Ken’s first thought is his boyfriend. Daisuke doesn’t know. He only knows about Ken’s occasional depressive episodes. It doesn’t alarm Daisuke too much, because being depressed sometimes is to be expected with someone who had as much as a screwed up past as Ken. Jou could tell you that. Besides, the mere thought of telling Daisuke makes him want to throw up.

Ken’s second thought is Wormmon. Petting and talking to his Digimon partner while doing schoolwork helps him calm down. But Wormmon and all the other Digimon partners are having a playdate in the Digital World this week.

Ken grits his teeth, and with a pounding heart, makes his first line of the night on his upper arm. Just when I thought I’d been getting pretty serious about stopping.  
He’s disgusted and ashamed. It doesn’t numb him or silence his thoughts anymore. It only makes them louder.

Mechanically, he cleans himself up. When he’s done, he puts Daisuke’s hoodie on. No matter how many times Ken washes it. Daisuke’s familiar smell never fades form the hoodie. Ken’s bandaged up pretty well so he knows he won’t bleed on it. If he did, he doesn’t know if he’d ever be able to forgive himself.

Ken flops down on his bed. Head spinning, cuts stinging, even some from a few days ago. He needs to stop. He really, really does. He’s hyper aware of it. At the back of his mind, he knows telling Daisuke would help. He would understand. But Ken can’t bear the thought of his boyfriend looking at him differently, with pity.

He sighs. He can’t fall asleep like this, with his mind loud and an emptiness that won’t go away. Daisuke would make him feel okay again.  
Ken grabs his phone.

_Ken:_  
_can u come over?_

There’s a few minutes until Daisuke’s reply.

_Daisuke:_  
_Ken i love u but it’s 2am go the hell 2 sleep_

Ken gasps softly. Is it really that late?

_Daisuke:_  
_any reason why u can’t sleep?_

Ken takes a deep breath. His hands shake.

_Ken:_  
_just feeling bad_

_Daisuke:_  
_o shit u sick?_

  
_Ken:_  
_i don’t think so_  
_sorry i’m keeping u up i just kinda feel like bad_  
_i mean emotionally_  
_i didn’t realize it was this late_

There’s a pause until Daisuke answers again.

_Daisuke:_  
_no don’t apologize i’m coming over_

_Ken:_  
_dai_  
_no_  
_it’s 2:50 am_  
_and don’t u have class tomorrow_

When Daisuke doesn’t reply for another few minutes, he sighs. He must be driving.

Burden. Burden. He’s coming over losing sleep for you it’s your fault.

Ken steps out of bed and heads to his small living room. He’s cold cold cold with anxiety even with his thickest hoodie on. He covers his hands with his sleeves, lowering himself down on his couch to stare at the door. His thoughts start to spiral.

After what seems like forever, his thoughts are cut off by a knock at the door. Ken jumps off the couch. When he opens the door, he’s immediately smothered by a tight, warm hug. Nose buried in Daisuke’s rough, messy hair, Ken breathes in citrus shampoo.

“Daisuke, you have class tomorrow,” Ken mumbles.

“That’s not important. You’re more important than one stupid class.” Daisuke pulls away, still holding Ken’s arms and looking him in the eyes. “I’m glad you texted me. You don’t have to deal with anything alone, you know that, right?”

Ken feels nauseated. “Of course.” He thinks of all the times he’s been alone in his thoughts, and left Daisuke in the dark. Ken meets Daisuke’s worry-filled eyes and feels guilty. Daisuke’s eyes search his.

“You look like you want to tell me something,” Daisuke says softly, caringly.

Ken sighs. His boyfriend can read him so easy. “I’ll tell you later. I’m just… glad you’re here.”

Daisuke continues to fuss over him — makes him food when he confesses he only ate breakfast, makes him his favorite tea. Daisuke talks the whole time, about the recent meetup with the rest of the Chosen. Gushes about how cute Taichi and Yamato are together, how Miyako is enjoying her computer science classes, remarks on how well Iori is doing in school and in Kendo. “That smart kid might even graduate early!” Ken nods along, making small hums of agreement as he listens to his boyfriend. It’s calming, much better than the background noise of his thoughts.

It gets late. Ken and Daisuke are cuddled up in Ken’s bed. Daisuke is rubbing circles on Ken’s back, while Ken’s face is buried in his chest. Daisuke suddenly stops talking while saying something about how Mimi is taking a trip back to Japan soon. Ken looks up, confused.

“So when you cancelled on that meetup. Was it, like, because of this?”

Ken freezes. “Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought it’d get better.”

“But this is something you’ve been dealing with for awhile, right?” Daisuke’s hand brushes Ken’s arm and he stifles a flinch.

Ken nods slightly. “Yeah, but you’re making me feel better just by being here.” And it’s true — his mind feels more at ease.

“I can’t stay here forever,” Daisuke says. “Trust me, I wish I could. And I’ll try my best to be by your side when you need me.”

Ken manages a shaky smile. “My amazing boyfriend, have I ever told you that you’re perfect?”

Daisuke gasps in mock surprise. “I was just about to tell you the same thing!”

They fall asleep in the early morning. Ken wakes up to Daisuke gone and a sticky note on his nightstand. The first thing Ken notices is that he feels relatively okay. Content. And a comfortable warmth spread throughout Ken’s body, even with Daisuke gone.

Ken rolls over to read the sticky note Daisuke left him.

_went to class bc i know u wanted me to. nothing after those classes so i’ll be back at like 3:30. love u. left u some breakfast_  
_from, ur favorite <3 :^)_

Ken decides to stay in bed for a bit longer. Because in his bed, he feels okay and safe and warm and he can’t even feel his cuts while just laying here motionlessly like this. He can pretend they’re not even there.


	2. Chapter 2

After class, Daisuke slips into the empty computer lab. He was debating between talking to their Digimon partners or telling Jou about the situation. Daisuke decided against the latter — for now — because Ken probably wouldn’t be too happy if he found out. Maybe Wormmon noticed something odd about Ken recently, and it would give Daisuke some sort of clue about what’s been going on with his boyfriend.

As Daisuke enters the Digital World, he’s met with excited yelps. 

“Daisuke’s here!” 

“Hey Daisuke!”

Two bundles of joy leap into his arms and he can’t stop laughing. “You guys!”

“We’re happy you’re here, of course,” says Agumon, stepping forward. “But is something wrong? It’s not the end of the week.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Daisuke assures the orange dinosaur Digimon. “I just wanted to talk to Veemon and Wormmon for a sec.” The said Digimon are nestled in the crooks of his arms, looking up at him curiously. He can’t meet either of their gazes quite yet. 

Agumon seems relieved. “That’s okay, then. Veemon and Wormmon? Can you catch up with us in a bit when you’re done?”

Daisuke can feel his partners nodding. The rest of the Digimon bound away, and his partners escape from his arms to the ground. 

Wormmon, in particular, looks alarmed. “Why isn’t Ken with you? Did something happen to him?” Veemon senses Wormmon’s distress and places a reassuring hand on his carapace.

“Why would you think something happened to Ken?”

Wormmon looks down at the ground. “Well… I just thought something was getting… worse.”

“Like what?” Daisuke wants to say, but it’s Veemon who says it.

“Well, he gets sad sometimes. Recently he gets sad for longer periods of time. He stays in bed at times he usually gets up. He’s really quiet except around you, Daisuke. And this one time…” Wormmon trails off, suddenly shy again. 

“What is it? Anything you remember can help me help Ken,” Daisuke says, sitting down beside him, and gathering Wormmon in his lap.

The caterpillar Digimon squints his eyes in confusion. “It’s a human thing I’m not sure I understand… But Ken’s TV was on. This was maybe two months ago, but time is warped between here and the real world. The reporter on the news said something about a celebrity committing… sui — something, which from my understanding, was really bad. Ken turned off the TV and went to the other room. And he was just sitting there, kind of staring into space. I asked him why the news story made him so upset. But he wouldn’t answer. But Daisuke, he didn’t answer me. And he was clearly so upset…” 

Daisuke can’t find it in himself to speak. Wormmon looks up at him expectantly, but Daisuke looks away and his shaking hands curl into fists.  _ No.  _ It doesn’t feel real. His boyfriend can’t be suicidal. 

Moments with Ken flash before his eyes. If Daisuke hadn’t responded to Ken’s text last night, would Ken be dead right now? Daisuke doesn’t even realize tears are rolling down his cheeks until Veemon extends a clawed finger to wipe them away. Or… maybe Ken just really liked that celebrity and was sad about it. But that doesn’t explain the panic attack.

“Whatever’s happening with Ken, you can help him, right?” Veemon asks.

“I…I hope so,” Daisuke says. Wormmon snuggles closer to him. 

***

“Daisuke! You’re late; how was —“ Ken halts, seeing Daisuke’s frozen form and wide eyes. Why does he look so shocked?

“Traffic,” Daisuke says simply. He walks across the room to envelop Ken in a hug, a hug so tight you’d think they hadn’t seen each other in months. Ken, although confused, hugs back just as tightly.

“What happened?” Ken asks as he pulls away.

Daisuke hangs his head and runs his hand through his hair roughly. When he looks up, he’s gritting his teeth. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you. What’s a relationship without honesty, right?”

Ken’s scared. Unbelievably scared, and he’s pretty sure it shows on his face. He braces himself for something along the lines of  _ I don’t love you anymore. _

Ken follows his boyfriend to the couch with trembling legs. They sit down side-by side, and he’s relieved when Daisuke pulls him closer. Ken lets himself relax with his boyfriend’s arm around his shoulders.

“It wasn’t traffic. I actually went to the Digital World after class.”

“Why? We’re seeing them again in a few days. Remember what Koshirou said about too much Real World exposure?”

“Of course, but… you know with what happened last night…”

Alarm bells sound in Ken’s head. “It won’t happen again. I promise. I —“

“No, Ken, I’m not asking you to do that. I was talking to Wormmon. He seems to think you’re getting worse.”

“I’m not,” Ken says stiffly, and he hates how they’re skirting around the word  _ depression _ . “It just happens sometimes. Happens to everybody.”

“Yeah,” says Daisuke grimly. “But Wormmon was telling me about this one time when the news mentioned someone who killed themselves on TV and you had a panic attack.” The way he says it is almost accusatory.

No doubt Daisuke feels him freeze. Ken’s heart feels like it might pound out of his chest. 

“Ken, are you suicidal?”

That’s it. Ken pulls away to stand up in front of Daisuke. He hates the way the frizzy haired boy is looking at him — scared, concerned, like Ken’s made of porcelain and about to shatter into pieces at any moment. 

“Look, Daisuke. I’m improving. Believe me when I say I’m improving. No, I’d never kill myself. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a time when I considered it. The thing on TV? It just reminded me of it and I… reacted. I’m okay, Daisuke. I promise I’m okay.”

Daisuke stares, shell-shocked, back at him. Ken is shocked, too; he just said something he never thought he’d admit out loud. Ken kind of hates the way Daisuke is just  _ not reacting  _ though. He’d always imagined this situation going a lot differently. 

Daisuke is motionless, still staring blankly at Ken. “How long?”

“I won’t lie either. Since I stopped being the Digimon Kaiser.” It doesn’t hurt as much to say those two words anymore.

“You…” Daisuke’s eyebrows furrow now. “You never told me. I mean, I  _ knew  _ — when we were like fourteen! I didn’t know it was still affecting you!”

“How was I supposed to tell you? ‘Hey, by the way, I still want to die’?”

There’s a silence, and Ken quickly regrets his blunt words. 

“... I could have helped you,” Daisuke says softly.

Ken drops onto the couch next to his boyfriend. An arm snakes around his waist. “I know, Dai.”

“Why, in the first place, though?” Daisuke asks, just as quietly.

“All the Digimon’s lives I destroyed. The pain I inflicted. It dawned on me that I was more deserving of death than those innocent Digimon.”

Daisuke holds him tighter.

“I mean, it  _ is  _ the truth, isn’t it? You could blame it on the Dark Spore, but that was only part of it. I already had that evil inside of me. All it did was amplify it.”

“No,” Daisuke says firmly. “You are the most kindhearted person I’ve ever met. You have the fucking Crest of Kindness, for god’s sake! What happened to you was not your fault! It doesn’t make you a bad person. Ichijouji, if you say one more time that you’re deserving of death, I’ll pummel you until you can’t even think bad thoughts anymore. Don’t you think you’ve suffered enough?” Daisuke’s eyes brim with tears.

Ken hates himself for it, but tears of his own streak down his face. His boyfriend says “It’s okay,” and “You don’t need to be upset,” but he’s not upset, not really. He’s more relieved that doesn’t have to lie and say he’s okay anymore. 

“Promise me,” Daisuke says out of the blue. His voice is wavering, but firm. “Promise me you’ll never kill yourself.”

Ken flinches at the words. “I’d never, Daisuke. I promise.” It’s easy to say. He hasn’t considered it in almost a year, but those blatant words coming out of Daisuke’s mouth still makes his heart beat out of his chest. 

“Then it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

And Ken believes it. They barely speak a word as they watch a strangely aggressive cooking show and finish up homework. When Daisuke has to leave, they say their goodbyes and Daisuke pulls Ken into a slightly longer kiss than usual. Ken’s left staring at the door when his boyfriend leaves, just standing there. He decides not to cut tonight. He’d feel bad if he did. 


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later, Daisuke comes by Ken’s apartment with the Digimon. Veemon and Wormmon are incredibly happy to see their partners again. Wormmon refuses to leave Ken’s arms until they have to sit down for lunch. The Digimon are starved of human food; it’s funny to see them shove sandwiches in their little mouths so enthusiastically. 

During lunch, Daisuke proudly announces that one of his professors said he’s the top of his class, and Ken is so excited that he pecks Daisuke on the lips _.  _ Daisuke blushes and gets kind of flustered because Ken hardly ever initiates a kiss. He can’t help it; he’s  _ happy _ . His partner Digimon are back, Daisuke is here, and he’s managed to not hurt himself for three days. Ken’s heart flutters at his boyfriend’s flustered face. He wishes every moment could be this perfect. Daisuke can’t cure his depression, but he sure can distract him from it. When Daisuke leaves, it’s like he’s clawing at his darkness for some emotion other than  _ hopeless.  _ Ken banishes that to the back of his mind right now. Because right now, his boyfriend is smiling at him like  _ he’s  _ the one who’s proud, and pecks him right back.

Veemon dives underneath the table in embarrassment. “TELL ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE!” the blue Digimon shrieks. 

Daisuke laughs, a blush still tinting his darkish skin. “We’re done, Vee.” Veemon pops his head up from under the table, bumping into Wormmon along the way. Daisuke leans close to Ken and whispers, “I love seeing you happy.”

Ken returns the smile, trying to ignore the way his skin itches underneath his sleeves. 

***

It’s been four days and Ken can’t cope. 

His limbs feel like they’re on fire, an itching, aching desire for release. It’s pathetic, but he’s crying out of frustration. He can’t do anything about the paper he’s supposed to writing and thoughts about the Dark Spore plague his mind.  _ I never had this problem before, I didn’t feel, I wish I could…  _ But his brain halts when his memory supplies him with images of hurt, abused Digimon. 

He sobs harder. Silently. Daisuke’s upset expression flashes across his mind now. It’s Ken’s fault. Everything is. And to cope with it, he needs…

“Ken?”

Shoot. Wormmon is supposed to be watering his plants outside — he has an admiration to how flora grows in the real world, and regrowing the devastated forests in the Digital World. Ken hadn’t heard him come back in from under his layer of blankets. 

“Ken-chan, are you crying?”

“No.”

“Ken…” Wormmon sighs and climbs onto the bed. Ken emerges from underneath his blankets. “Why are you sad?”

Ken scoops Wormmon into his arms. “Don’t worry about me; I’m just a bit upset. It happens sometimes.” Ken wipes his tears gave with his sleeve and cringes. 

“Is that normal for humans?”

“Not for most humans. I’m a special case.”

Wormmon is silent for a moment, taking that in. “Oh, so are you gonna be okay? Because Dai-chan seemed pretty worried about you the other day.”

“Wormmon… I mean it when I say you don’t have to worry about me.”  _ I’m not worth it anyway.  _

Wormmon appears conflicted. “Well, tell me if I can do anything that will make you feel better, Ken-chan.”

Ken smiles softly and runs his hand over his Digimon partner. “Of course.” 

To Ken’s relief, Wormmon doesn’t flinch at his touch like the first year after Ken stopped being the Kaiser. The worm Digimon still has pretty bad PTSD -- he still shuts down when someone raises their voice, stomps angrily, or slams a door. Ken and Daisuke are incredibly careful not to do any of those things, because Wormmon being a mute, trembling mess is never a good sight. Wormmon has forgiven Ken for all he’s done to him, but Ken isn’t sure if he deserves it. 

He’s not even sure he has the right to be  _ touching  _ a Digimon. These hands have caused so much suffering. Ken lets his hand fall to his blanket instead. “I’ll probably feel better after some rest.” Truth is, nightmares only make his state of mind worse.

“I’m sleepy too.” Wormmon curls up into Ken’s chest. “Goodnight, Ken-chan. I love you.”

“Goodnight, Wormmon. I love you too.”

Ken can’t drift off to sleep because memories keep whirling around in his mind. Five years ago, Wormmon tried to crawl into Ken’s bed in the base. Ken, as the Kaiser, had whipped him senseless. Wormmon was so used to the whippings he didn’t even cry out. He just mumbled a “Sorry, master,” and crawled off.

Ken feels Wormmon’s steady breathing and wonders how his Digimon partner can stand living with the same person who abused him for years. With this unsettling thought, Ken drifts off into a restless sleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

There’s another meetup for the Chosen Children, and Ken knows he has to go the moment Daisuke tells him about it. Otherwise, he’d just make Daisuke more concerned. 

“You’ll go, won’t you?” Daisuke asks, amber eyes pleading. 

“Of course I will.” And he really does want to go this time. He feels bad he didn’t attend last month, and Daisuke had to tell the others some lame excuse as to why he wasn’t there.

Daisuke’s eyes light up. “Really?! That’s great, Ken! It’ll be fun!”

***

Through the group chat, they arrange to meet at a ramen shop downtown and go to the park afterwards. The Digimon are itching to play, and they already miss each other after being apart for a week and a half. 

Only the younger group of Chosen Children are available to meet up. The older all seem to be busy in some sort of way. Mimi, of course, is still in the United States, and Sora is visiting her there. Taichi is accompanying Yamato on the band’s tour. Jou and Koshirou, on the other hand, are busy taking summer courses.

And so Ken, Daisuke, Iori, Miyako, Takeru, Hikari, and their Digimon partners sit at a booth in the best ramen shop in Tokyo. Ken finds himself enjoying the pleasant conversations. After all, he hasn’t seen the whole group together in a long time.

Miyako gossips her head off per usual. That’s something Ken loves about Miyako. She always has a good story to tell. 

“And oh my god, I’m telling you guys — this kind of stuff happens at my school every day.”

“Jesus christ,” Takeru says. “I  _ wish _ my school was that entertaining.”

Miyako scoffs. “Trust me; you don’t.”

“Wow, our school lives have been pretty uneventful compared to that,” Daisuke remarks.  _ Our _ , of course, meaning Daisuke and Ken. He then wrinkles his nose at the ramen he’s eating. “Man, they didn’t spice this right.”

Hikari laughs. “I can’t tell the difference, but of course you can, Mr. Master Chef.”

“I know. He spoils me with his cooking so much that I can barely stand going out to eat,” Ken says. 

As he feeds Wormmon some ramen with his chopsticks, he feels his boyfriend squeeze his other hand and hold it. A warmth blossoms in his chest. The way Daisuke makes him feel never gets old. 

Daisuke doesn’t seem to mind that Ken’s hand is sweaty. It’s suspicious, wearing long sleeves in the summer inside a steamy noodle shop — but somehow, no one has questioned it so far. Daisuke releases his hand to scarf down some more ramen. 

For a second, everyone is silent, all seeing the same thing. 

Veemon is the one to speak up. “Dai, why is there a streak of blood on your hand?”

At first, Ken is confused. Why  _ would  _ there be blood on his boyfriend’s hand? Until he realizes that some of the sweat on his own hand isn’t sweat. 

_ No, no, no.  _ His forearm is damp as well; thankfully, his shirt is black. Blood from his cuts must have dropped down his arm to his hand.  _ I fucked up. I fucked up.  _ Subtly, Ken yanks down his sleeves.  _ There’s no way Daisuke’s finding out like this. _

So Ken acts concerned. “Where is it?”

Daisuke, confused, reveals to the group the drying streak of red on his palm. Ken fusses over it. “Did you get a cut?”

“I don’t think so; it doesn’t hurt…”

Miyako goes over all the possibilities. “Papercut? Bit by a bug? Nosebleed? What did you touch, Dai?”

“I’m not sure…” Daisuke looks at Ken. His eyes travel down to his covered hands and dark shirt. Ken can see Daisuke piecing together the puzzle in his mind. “Just a moment. I need to talk to Ken for a sec.”

Hikari, Takeru, Miyako, and Iori all look confused as Daisuke slides out of the booth and looks at Ken expectantly to do the same. Ken’s heartbeat drums in his ears, feeling like he might faint. It’s probably obvious he’s trembling as he stands up to follow Daisuke out of the restaurant. 

“Why don’t you roll your sleeves up, Ken? It’s awfully hot out here,” Daisuke says casually as they sit down on a bench. 

Ken hesitates. What does Daisuke want him to say next? Obviously, he’s caught on. “I’m sorry, I —“

“You’re cutting yourself, aren’t you? Please tell me I'm crazy. Please tell me you’re bleeding because you’re clumsy and fell. Anything but harming yourself.”

His boyfriend’s words are a slap to the face.

Some pedestrian turns her head to look at them when she hears Daisuke’s words. When she sees the two, her face morphs into an expression of pity and shock, but keeps walking. Why did Daisuke say it so loud — and like that? What if the stranger recognized him? Ken almost laughs at the thought. Ken Ichijouji, former genius boy and soccer star from the news, now depressed and cutting himself.

“Ken? Please…”

What a sight they must be. One boy wearing a long sleeves and pants on the hottest day of the year, the other on the brink of tears.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so. here's this. working on a loooot of stuff at once so sorry this took like a month or something. expect the next chapter within a week.

How could Ken be self-harming? For how long? Daisuke feels like an absolute fucking moron.  _ How did I not notice? My own boyfriend! _

Daisuke wipes away the tears surfacing in his eyes. “Hey, we can talk about it once we get home, yeah?” He’s trying to sound normal for Ken, but really he feels like he might throw up the mediocre ramen he’d just eaten. 

Ken looks away, his longish hair shrouding his face. “Let’s go back in. The others are waiting.”

“We can go home if you want —“

“No. I’m fine with going back.”

Without even a passing glance to Daisuke, Ken stands up to head back into the noodle restaurant. Daisuke is forced to follow.

_ What do I do? Who do I tell? _

...Jou.

Ken acts off for the rest of lunch. He participates in conversation, but intentionally avoids Daisuke’s gaze. The others are clearly notice the tension between the two. When Takeru mouths across the table  _ What were you guys talking about?  _ with a concerned wrinkle in his forehead, Daisuke just shrugs. Even Veemon is confused. “I’ll tell you later, buddy,” he tells the distressed Digimon. From Ken’s lap, Wormmon only looks up at Daisuke quizzically. The pit of despair only grows in Daisuke’s stomach. 

At the park, Daisuke and Ken face off in a soccer match. Ken’s a sweaty mess with his long sleeves he won’t roll up. At least he has his hair up in a ponytail to play. When Ken scores a goal against him, Daisuke declares, “Guess I lost!” He can’t bear to see his boyfriend like this any longer. “You look worn out. Why don’t you grab one of the cold water bottles Miyako brought?”

The other Chosen and their Digimon look puzzled from the bleachers. Daisuke never admits defeat, even against Ken. Ken gives Daisuke an odd look but complies anyway. 

Daisuke heads to the bathroom, after announcing, quite loudly, that he has to pee. The others roll their eyes because  _ classic Daisuke.  _ Really he just needs an opportunity to call Jou. He washes off the faint streak of blood on his hand (oh god that’s  _ Ken’s  _ blood), and then clicks the number on Jou’s contact. 

“Daisuke?” Jou’s groggy voice comes through the speaker. “You better have a good reason for calling me because I just pulled an all nighter and —“

“I’m calling about Ken,” Daisuke blurts.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “What about Ken?”

Hesitantly, Daisuke recounts what Wormmon had told him about Ken, and Ken’s reaction towards it. 

“You’re worrying that he’s still having thoughts of suicide even though he told you that’s behind him?”

“No, um. That plus something else…” He tells the doctor-in-training everything. About the restaurant, the blood, and how his boyfriend wears long sleeves all the time. 

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ This is a tough situation. But I’m glad you decided to tell me Daisuke, because the next course of action is getting him the help he needs.”

“Like… a shrink?”

“Most likely, yes. But if he’s cutting riskily deep, or he can’t stop, even if he’s not trying to intentionally commit suicide, a stay at a hospital would be best.”

Daisuke swallows thickly. His boyfriend wouldn’t like that at all.

“I can give you a referral to a therapist who specializes in this kind of thing. In fact, his office is close to your apartment.”

“That would be great, but… I don’t think he’s going to be very comfortable doing this.”

“Not many people are. But he can’t stop self-injuring like he’s currently doing.”

Daisuke flinches at the words. To be honest, the situation hasn’t fully sunk in yet. He can’t imagine his boyfriend cutting himself or wanting to die. Daisuke’s throat starts to feel tight.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just… overwhelmed. And upset. I don’t know what to do, Jou.”

“You’re doing the right thing. And with your help, Ken will recover,” Jou assures him.

Daisuke sniffles. “Yeah. What was the name of the shrink again?”

Daisuke jots down the doctor's name in his phone as Jou gives him some advice. “Hide or dispose of sharp objects. Keep a close eye on him. I don’t specialize in this kind of thing, so I’m sure the therapist will have more ideas.”

Daisuke thanks him. 

“Of course. Feel free to call me for anything. Neither of you have to deal with this alone, Daisuke.”

He chokes out another  _ thank you _ and hangs up. Taking a deep breath, Daisuke opens the door to exit the bathroom.

***

Ken is confused when a sheepish looking Iori pulls him aside.

The young boy shifts his feet. “I’m sorry if I’m wrong about this, but I think I know what’s going on, because I have a friend who self-harms.”

Ken’s heart stops.

“It’s wrong of me to make assumptions, but the blood, and…” Iori gestures to Ken’s shirt.

His mind reels, trying to think of an excuse to wear long sleeves in this weather, but he comes up with nothing. “You… You’re right.”

Iori’s face morphs into an even more serious expression. “Does Daisuke know?”

He nods.

“Are you getting help? My friend says therapy really helped him.”

“We’re working on that.”

Iori looks up at Ken now with solemn, yet determined eyes. “I know we haven’t been the closest, but I care. Everyone’s worried for you. Please… stay safe?”

“I will,” Ken promises the boy. Dread still bubbles in his stomach. 

“Good. We’re all here if you need anything.”

Ken nods again, then jolts when he feels a hand in his shoulder. He turns his head to see Daisuke with an expression that he can’t quite place.

“You okay?”

Ken stares back at him.

Daisuke rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Stupid question. Let’s just try to enjoy ourselves right now, okay?” The _ we’ll talk later  _ is implied.

Before they leave, Ken has the idea to leave Veemon and Wormmon with Iori for the night. Iori agrees and doesn’t question why. He knows Ken and Daisuke have a lot to sort through tonight.

“We just have to take care of some things,” Ken assures his Digimon partners. “We wouldn’t want to stress you guys out. Plus, you’d like some more time to play with Armadimon, right?”

They look unconvinced. “Whatever it is,” Veemon says, “are you sure you don’t want us there?”

Ken sighs. This is hard to explain. “We’ll tell you two soon. I promise.”

Wormmon looks up at Ken with his big eyes. “What happened to you, Ken? You’re acting so --”

They’re cut short when Armadimon saunters up behind them, putting his hands on Wormmon and Veemon’s shoulders. “We’re gonna have such a fun time, d’agyaa! Iori has kendo practice tonight! You guys should try it out!”

“Ready to go?” Daisuke asks as he walks up beside Ken.

“Yeah. Vee and Worm are staying at Iori’s tonight.”

Daisuke nods. “Okay. Probably for the best.”

Everyone packs up their things and are ready to head home. The Chosen and their Digimon are walking to the parking lot when Daisuke snickers, “It was fun… beating you all in soccer!”

Miyako hits him over the head with her paper fan. “Hey! We were never on soccer teams like you!”

“No excuses!”

Daisuke and Ken climb into their car as the others wave goodbye. 

“You guys take care of yourselves!” Takeru calls after them.

“You too,” says Ken, and closes the car door.

The ride back home is eerily silent. Daisuke focuses intensely on the road. Ken plays a pointless game on his phone and tries to ignore the crushing collapsing feeling in his chest.

They pull into the parking garage of their apartment complex. Daisuke parks in the usual spot. The car is off and Daisuke doesn’t move. Ken doesn’t like how tense the air between them is, so he goes to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

Daisuke suddenly raises both his fists and slams them down on the steering wheel. “God dammit!” 

Ken involuntarily flinches.

“How? I don’t understand! How could you do this to yourself?”

There’s a silence. Ken finishes unbuckling his seatbelt with shaking hands, wanting more than anything to run far far away from this situation. “... You’re mad at me.”

“I’m mad at myself for not  _ fucking noticing! _ ” Daisuke is grimacing, still not meeting Ken’s eyes. His hand runs roughly through his coarse hair and down his face. “We’re getting you help. I already called Jou.”

“You did? When?” If Daisuke has only just found out at the restaurant…

“While I was in the bathroom. He gave me a shrink’s number. I’m calling tonight and making an appointment for you.”

Daisuke told Jou about Ken’s self-harming? Ken’s face burns with shame. He digs his fingernails deep into the fabric of the car seat. What must Jou think of him now? And a therapist? Ken doesn’t mind that much, actually — it’s the  _ opening up to a stranger  _ part that makes him want to shrivel up and die.

When Ken doesn’t say anything, Daisuke keeps talking. “Jou said to get rid of sharp things. So I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe we’ll go to the store tomorrow to get a lock for the knives. And our shaving razors… I’ll figure something out.”

_ Don’t you trust me?  _ Ken wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he knows the answer.

Daisuke lets out a sigh and reaches for the car door. “Come on.”

“Wait,” Ken says before his boyfriend can leave the car, a burning question spinning around in his head. “Do you hate me?” 

Daisuke blinks, looking caught off guard by the question. “ _ Hate  _ you?” He looks Ken in the eye for the first time since the park. “We’ve been through a lot together, but I always love you through it. This time is no different. I love you. And nothing could change my mind.”

Daisuke climbs out of the car and closes the door behind him in a sort of finality. Ken follows him into their apartment; it feels empty without Veemon and Wormmon. Daisuke sets his keys on the counter and pushes himself up to sit on the marble top.

“So let’s talk.” Daisuke’s voice is gentle now, a stark contrast to the talk in the car. “So you…  _ cut _ ?”

It’s as if someone squeezes the breath out of Ken’s lungs with a giant fist. “Yeah,” he croaks, just standing there in the kitchen, meeting Daisuke’s gaze.

“Using what?”

Keeping something from his boyfriend is one thing, outright lying to him is another. “I… wrenched a razor out of one of those cheap plastic pencil sharpeners.” He doesn’t mention how he used his shaving razor to nick his shoulders, or a knife to make his hips bleed. Ken leans in the counter. The edge presses against his side. Only a dull ache now. 

“Where is it?”

Ken saw that coming. He walks into the bedroom, Daisuke following closely behind. Ken opens up a drawer that contains his Digivice, pictures of his family, and other personal mementos. Ken brushes aside a polaroid of some old school friends, and underneath is a thin silver piece of metal. The pungent metallic smell reaches Ken’s nose.

Ken goes to pick it up to give it to him, but Daisuke snatches it up before he can. “Trash truck comes tomorrow,” Daisuke explains, and goes to throw it in the bin outside the apartment.

Ken’s heart plummets. It almost hurts to see it go; as pathetic as it is, his razor is almost like his friend. Something to fall back on when everything goes to shit. 

When Daisuke comes back into the room, he looks more upset than before. Ken is struggling to breathe now, all of today’s events crashing down on him. Daisuke notices his panic  _ (he always does)  _ and takes his hand in his own.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Daisuke says softly.

“It’s not.” Ken’s voice is tremulous, as is his whole body. “It’s really not. I hate this.”

“Me too.” Daisuke’s voice is even gentler now, like he’s trying to coax a frightened animal. “I’m not judging you. I don’t think any differently of you. You’re still my fucking amazing boyfriend, and you bet your ass I’ll do anything it takes to make sure you don’t hurt anymore. I’ll fight your demons, Ken.”

Daisuke’s words don’t sit right with Ken. “But I’m not —“ he bites his lip.

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not  _ worth  _ it, Daisuke!” Ken says abruptly, not caring that his boyfriend startles. His legs tremble beneath him, threatening to give out. “You don’t have to  _ do _ anything! Let me deal with this.”

Daisuke stares at Ken with a pity that makes him want to scream. “... You really believe that?”

“I’m not some emotionally unstable child anymore.” Ken lowers himself down on his desk chair, the  _ need  _ to dig his nails into his skin overwhelming him.  

“What if I were the one who were cutting? What would you do for me?” Daisuke is almost pleading with him now.

Ken snorts. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

Ken looks away again.

“That’s just it, Ken! Why do you value yourself so little? It’s like… it’s like you don’t care what happens to you!”

An explosion, a sacrifice, tears and a flash of light and a  _ heartbeat  _ —Ken knows Daisuke’s reliving it too. “It’s not like that. I don’t want to die.”

“Thank god, but —“ Daisuke paces the room. “How do I make you see that you’re important?” He throws his hands up in the air. “You’re so goddamn important and you don’t even see it!”

Ken doesn’t feel so important right now. He just feels like a pathetic pain addict in desperate need of a fix. Absentmindedly, he scratches at his arm through his thin sleeve. Daisuke’s stricken expression makes him stop.

“Just an itch,” Ken mumbles, and it isn’t entirely a lie.

“I don’t know what to do,” Daisuke mutters. He stops pacing to sit down on their bed, studying Ken in the desk chair. Ken suddenly feels exposed.

“Why do you do it?” Daisuke says after a quiet spell.

The same question Ken has been asking himself for a long time.

“I guess I just kinda…” Ken bounces his leg. Daisuke notices his boyfriend’s anxiety. “It’s a habit now. A year or so ago there were concrete reasons, but —“

“A year?” Daisuke breathes, his eyes wide, and Ken knows he shouldn’t have spoken.

No use in lying now. “It didn’t start with cutting though. I burned myself with my father’s lighter.” Ken’s throat aches like it might close up, and feels his heart might jump out of his chest, yet he forces himself to keep talking. 

Daisuke regards him with understanding. “The burn on your wrist.”

Ken is surprised Daisuke even remembers. Before he started cutting, he was careless and let his sleeve hike up, exposing a fairly fresh aggravated burn. Ken said he got it whilst helping his mother cook. It’s still there, a healed off-white blotch on his already extremely pale skin. (Now surrounded by a few white and red lines.) 

He remembers his father’s disappointed eyes as he snatched the lighter from his hands. Little did his father know, Ken was never a smoker.

“Yeah. That was the first time.”

“What led you to that? You seemed perfectly fine that day.”

“I went on a walk in the Digital World, alone, because I was stressed out from school, and studying for finals, and…a Turuiemon came out of nowhere.” Ken clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to recall, but the events that took place more than a year ago barrage his mind. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just updated yesterday, but I wanted to post this before I forget. This is the chapter I'm most proud of so far tbh.  
> I probably won't update as frequently after this because I'm still working out some of the kinks in future chapters. Plus school has consumed my life already :( Anyways, enjoy.  
> (Thanks for 200 hits!)

About One Year Ago

“I know you!” the rabbit Digimon suddenly snarls. Before Ken can move, the Turuiemon grabs him and pulls him close by his collar. Ken almost chokes, struggling to look the Digimon in the eye.

“Do you remember me, Digimon Kaiser?” she spits.

Ken does.

He remembers enslaving an entire village by the side of the mountains. He descended on a Ringed Airdramon, flocked with other Ringed aerial Digimon. They didn’t need more Digimon on the ground to take out this village, which consisted mostly of Child and Champion Digimon.

Before he knew it, the ground below was aflame. Screams floated up to Ken’s ears. Child Digimon were ushering Babies out of crumbling buildings, and the

Champions of the village attempted to combat their Ringed attackers. Ken covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve as the rising smoke burned in his throat. Some Digimon tried to escape the village, but Ken threw down some Dark Rings with frightening precision and enslaved them. Once the Rings clasped around their necks, they turned around and rushed back into the fray with animalistic growls.

One Digimon, though, expertly smacked the Dark Ring away and kept running. Its purple and white ears flopped in the wind. The Digimon held something incredibly small and spherical wrapped protectively in its arms.

Ken smirked. He could use another lithe, fast land Champion in his arsenal. Plus, this would be fun.

“Airdramon, follow that Turuiemon.”

The escaping Digimon glanced behind it, seeing the Airdramon quickly approaching. Terror dawned on the Turuiemon’s face. It hopped up on the branches and began bounding tree to tree.

The Airdramon spat plumes of fire down at the earth. The tree the Turuiemon was perched on erupted in flames. The Digimon tumbled out of the tree, landing on its back to protect the Baby in its arms. The Airdramon descended on the ground, and Ken stepped off, fire dancing in his eyes.

The cornered Digimon bared its teeth at him. “So you’re the Digimon Kaiser.”

“I suppose I am,” Ken said nonchalantly, spinning a Dark Ring around on one finger.

The Turuiemon eyed the Ring suspiciously. “I know what those things do,” it said, shifting its arms, giving Ken a view of the yellow Baby nested there against its chest. “They make Digimon do your bidding. It’s vile! You’re ripping us of our souls!”

Ken laughed, a cackle that made the Turuiemon flinch. “What souls?”

The purple rabbit Digimon regarded him with contempt. “You’re disgusting.”

“As I’ve been told.” He stopped twirling the Dark Ring around on his finger and readied to throw it.

“Wait,” the Turuiemon pleaded. “You can take me, but spare my Baby.”

It revealed a bristling, trembling Relemon. The yellow Digimon was a pathetic thing, with only a tail and no limbs.

“You… You don’t Ring Babies, do you? You don’t have any use for them?” the Turuiemon implores.

“I don’t,” said Ken.

“So you won’t hurt him?”

Ken couldn’t stand its eyes, its eyes full of desperation. As if it actually cared for the thing.

Before the Turuiemon could say anything more, there was a Dark Ring around its neck. It relaxed from its terrified stance and the Relemon dropped to the ground.

“Destroy it,” Ken said to the Ringed Turuiemon.

Without hesitation, the Digimon curled its fist and swung it down to strike the Relemon. He remembers that the tiny Digimon dissolved into butterflies made of zeroes and ones, fluttering into the sky in a disgustingly beautiful display.

He remembers all of it with disturbing clarity.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Ken says. “I understand how angry you are, and I’m angry at myself too.”

The Tururiemon snorts and spits in his face, her grip never loosening. “I don’t care. I’ve been waiting years to get my revenge on you, and nothing’s stopping me now.” The Digimon brings her arm back, ready to collide with his face.

“Wait,” Ken gasps. “Did you ever find Relemon again?”

Tururiemon falters. “I didn’t,” she says. “I searched Primary Village, but too much time had passed, he probably moved out by then. Who knows where he went. I haven't stopped searching. He’s like— what do you humans call it? A son to me.”

Ken is taken aback at Tururiemon’s passion; since Digimon don’t give birth, a parental bond like one between parent and child is rare among them.

“I’m sorry,” Ken says, even though he’s said it so many times in his life that the words feel redundant, no matter how much he means it. “I can help you search for him. Me and the other Chosen.”

“No!” Tururiemon barks. “No human is ever getting their hands on Relemon again!”

The Digimon is about to swing at him out of sheer anger. Ken, surrendered, fully believing he deserves it, braces himself for the blow, until —

“Ken-chan?”

Tururiemon stops, looking past him. Ken lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Who are you? And what are you doing to my Ken-chan?” Wormmon demands.

Tururiemon releases his grip on Ken’s collar. He turns his head to see his partner holding Daisuke’s Digivice in his foreclaws. Wormmon shoots his sticky net at Turuiemon.

“No, Wormmon,” Ken says. “Let her go.”

“This is your little partner, then?” Turuiemon spits, breaking free of Wormmon’s webs with ease. “Where were you when he murdered my Baby? Why didn’t you stop him?”

Wormmon looks conflicted, but follows Ken’s orders and doesn’t attack again. “You have to understand that my Ken-chan isn’t like that anymore.”

“It doesn’t erase what he’s done.”

Wormmon’s eyes narrow. “Let’s go, Ken-chan. You should eat some dinner.”

Hesitantly, Ken starts walking over to his partner. Turuiemon doesn’t make any move to stop him.

“I hope you feel the weight of a million deaths on your shoulders!” the rabbit Digimon screeches, and Ken doesn’t turn to look back at her, only hesitates on his way to the monitor. “You deserve the same fate of all those lives you destroyed! I don’t care if you’re a Chosen -- millions of Digimon want you dead!”  


Wormmon raises Daisuke’s digivice, the one he used to get here, and opens the digital gate. They’re back in Ken’s bedroom with a flash.

“Those things that Digimon said,” Wormmon says shakily, “they aren’t true. None of it was true. You know that, right, Ken-chan?”

He doesn’t reply.

  
***

Ken spends the next dozen nights searching for a Viximon, Renamon, Kyubimon, or even a Youkomon. However, the ones he do encounter don’t know a Turuiemon. As he searches villages and even Full Metal City, countless Digimon turn to stare at him, whispering among themselves as if he’s a harbinger of doom.

Maybe he is.

Ken’s feet drag through the streets of Full Metal City. It’s four A.M. and he has to be in class by seven thirty. He hasn’t slept for almost two and a half days. Last time Daisuke saw him, he was beside himself with worry. “These entrance exams are really tiring you out,” Daisuke said. “You don’t need to stay up so late studying. You’ll get in no matter what. Every university wants the genius boy!”

Daisuke let him go with the promise that he’d go to sleep earlier. Ken wonders when he started lying to his boyfriend like that. Then again, he’d also assured Wormmon he would never venture into the Digital World alone without protection, because of all the Digimon who might attack. Why must he break every promise he’s made?

He searches the city until six A.M. The streets start to blur together in his vision and his feet feel heavier with every step. When he returns to his room, he slumps against the wall, willing himself not to cry. Wormmon is still asleep on the top bunk. On the bottom bunk is Osamu’s memorial -- his brother’s smiling photograph stares back at him, ambivalently, as it always does. Turuiemon’s screams echo in Ken’s weary mind. _I hope you feel the weight of a million deaths on your shoulders!_

He does. He has for years.

Ken stands up now, forcing his eyes to stay open as the world sways beneath him. Maybe he just needs to eat. Yes, that must be it, even though he can’t feel the pangs of hunger anymore. He stumbles into the kitchen, pondering what his stomach would take. Maybe some plain toast, he thinks.

Suddenly, something red lying on the counter catches his eye. As his vision focuses, he realizes that it’s his father’s bic lighter. Ken wrinkles his nose in disgust. He hates his father’s smoking habit. The smell reminds him of the countless forests he’s burnt to the ground. So, he doesn’t know why he picks it up and studies it in his shaking hands. He doesn’t know why he flicks it and stares at the tiny flame.

His stomach drops. He knows he’s not thinking clearly, but he swears he can hear the faint echo of crackling trees and fading screams. He can see Relemon’s scattering data in the lighter’s flame. A sort of all-consuming self-hatred washes over him. How is he such a failure that he can’t right his wrongs? Ken doesn’t deserve the forgiveness Daisuke, Wormmon, Veemon and the rest of the Chosen have given him. He’s just…

He’s _disgusting_.

In a flash of anger Ken fumbles with the lighter and then brings it down on his skin. Yes, he deserves this. To be aflame like all he’s burnt in the Digital World. Maybe now he can feel even a fraction of the pain that his victims felt. Ken bites his lip as a bright pain erupts on his skin. Quickly, he flicks the lighter off. What was he thinking? The pain dances around in his mind and makes him want to cry out.

“Son?” Ken’s father says, emerging from his room.

Ken subtly tugs his sleeve down to hide the burn and turns around to see his father. “Good morning.”

He doesn’t return the greeting. “What are you doing with my lighter?”

“I was just…”

Ken’s father walks over to him and snatches it from his fingers. He eyes Ken’s exhausted face with suspicion. “Were you out all night at some sort of party? And you thought you could just sneak out with my lighter?”

“No, I wasn’t at a party,” Ken begins to protest, before he realizes there’s no way to explain his way out of this. “I should get ready for school.”

Ken shoulders past him and walks back to his room without another word. His father doesn’t say anything either, just stands there with his lighter in hand, not knowing his son had burned himself with it seconds before.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter this time! the school year started more than a month ago; it's going okay so far, but I barely have time to do anything. 
> 
> next month I have a gender clinic appt :) idk why I just felt like I wanted to share that, I'm just so excited about living the life I should be living.
> 
> anyways enjoy! the next chapter is almost completely edited so I'll post that within a week or so.

Present Day

Iori is sweaty and exhausted as he changes out of his Kendo uniform. The Digimon are also thankful to take off their masks. Despite the fact that Veemon has actual hands, he lost miserably to Wormmon, and is still pouty about it. 

“You both did great for your first practice, d’agyaa!” Armadimon reassures poor sulking Veemon. 

While the Digimon talk amongst themselves, Iori grabs his phone to see notifications from a new group chat.

_ Group: Hikari, Takeru, Miyako, Me _

_ Miyako: _

_ What do u guys thinks up with Dai and Ken? _

_ I mean they’ve been acting kind of weird don’t you think? _

It strikes Iori as wrong to talk about their friends behind their backs. But he can’t blame Miyako for being worried. 

_ Iori: _

_ Maybe we should let them work through it, whatever it is. They’ll tell us when they’re ready _

_ Miyako: _

_ Hm yeah _

_ But the nosey side of me wants to know so I can help. _

Iori slips out of the living room to the peace and quiet of his bedroom. Armadimon notices this and follows him inside.

“There’s a serious reason why Veemon and Wormmon are visiting, isn’t there?” the yellow armadillo Digimon drawls, nosing the door closed behind him.

Iori flops down on his bed and sighs. “I just don’t feel right telling you.”

“Do what you feel is right, d’agyaa. I trust you.”

“Thank you, Armadimon.” Iori’s phone buzzes and he frowns. “Miyako’s being nosey again.”

“When isn’t she?” Armadimon quips.

He opens his phone, though, to see a text from Takeru in the group chat instead.

_ Takeru: _

_ you guys noticed Ken’s long sleeves? and how nervous he was when anyone suggested he roll his sleeves up? i hope it isn't what i think it is. _

_ Miyako: _

_? _

_ What do you think it is? _

_ Hikari: _

_ ohhhgh my god,,, _

_ miyako you know i love you with my entire heart but, _

_ Are You Fucking Blind _

So they’ve figured it out. Most of them, at least.

_ Miyako: _

_ WHAT _

_ Takeru: _

_ you know how Ken probably has like, depression? _

_ ugh, i don’t like talking about him behind his back _

_ Miyako: _

_ yeah… you think he’s getting bad again? _

_ Takeru: _

_ I don’t wanna say it bc like!! i don’t wanna get in their business and we might be wrong anyway _

_ Miyako: _

_ Sighs ur right _

_ Like Iori said they’ll tell us if they want  _

_ And the bfs support each other so well, I’m sure Daisuke would be able to help Ken if he’s getting bad again _

Hopefully Daisuke plus a therapist will be enough, Iori thinks as he sets his phone aside. He knows how hard it can be to stop. Iori had lied about the friend.

About four years ago, he bruised himself so often that his family wouldn't take excuses anymore. He was an emotionally repressed thirteen year old child fighting a war. Needless to say, it was a long healing process. He still goes to his therapist, who makes the world feel just a little less heavy on his shoulders. Now Armadimon fusses over every little injury Iori comes home with. Every time he has to reassure his partner that he really is okay now. 

It hurts to see his friend suffer the way he had -- maybe worse. Of course, Iori had his suspicions about Ken before today, to a point where he considered telling Daisuke. But then, Iori figured Daisuke already knew; the two boyfriends are perfectly synced in every way. What their exact situation is, Iori doesn’t know, but it seems that Ken will be getting help soon. Iori wants to see Ken smile and laugh and glow again. He wants to see the dark circles under Ken’s eyes fade and see Ken stand less defeated. He wants to do  _ more _ , but he trusts that Daisuke will get Ken the help he needs. If there’s anything Iori knows, it’s that Daisuke would do anything for his boyfriend.

“ _We’re more than boyfriends,_ ” Daisuke often says, throwing an arm around Ken’s shoulders. “ _We’re Jogress partners. Soulmates._ ”

And Ken blushes and the others tease him for being so cheesy -- but Iori has to admit it’s true. They would go to the ends of the Earth for each other.

***

Iori wakes in the morning to a shriek. “Oof, Armadimon, you’re crushing me!” It’s Veemon, flailing under Armadimon’s weight. Wormmon lets out a squeak as well.

Armadimon rubs the back of his head sheepishly, crawling off of his friends. “Sorry guys. Sometimes I forget my size.”

Iori lets out a chuckle at the three of them. Suddenly, Veemon perks up. “I smell pancakes!”

Iori’s grandfather, Chikara, must have prepared breakfast because of their Digimon visitors. Iori checks his phone for the time, and sees that Daisuke texted him a bit earlier. 

_ Daisuke: _

__ _ thnx for having the digis over dude! we’ll be there in an hour to pick em up :^) _

The Digimon devour their pancakes. Iori’s grandfather’s eyes are full of amusement at how fast Armadimon, Wormmon, and Veemon scarf down his cooking. “Thank youuu!” the three Digimon exclaim in unison. 

Before Chikara can reply, the door rings. Iori gets it, swinging open the door to his friends, who seem perfectly normal. 

“Thanks again!” Daisuke says, briefly hugging Iori. Ken doesn’t hug him, but their eyes meet and Ken offers him a heartfelt smile. 

“Of course!” Iori says.

“It was so much fun hanging out with em’,” says Armadimon. “Come again soon, d’agyaa!”

Daisuke and Ken also chat with Iori’s grandfather a bit. Daisuke cheekily pops a leftover pancake in his mouth and says goodbye.

After they leave, Iori can still hear Daisuke, Ken, and their partners in the hall through the thin walls of the apartment.

“What were you two doing without us?” Wormmon asks. 

“Yeah, were you guys having sex?” Veemon says casually.

Iori hears Ken sputter. “W-What?”

“What’s that?” asks Wormmon curiously.

Daisuke laughs, and Iori has to stifle his own laugh as well. “Vee, how do you know what that is?”

“The internet, duh! I learned that it’s something people in a relationship do! And you guys are in a relationship, right? I don’t understand human stuff like that.”

“...Are we just gonna let Veemon have free range of the internet like that?” Ken asks. Their voices get fainter as they walk further down the hallway.

Daisuke sighs. “Being a parent is hard.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS. Just realized yesterday I hadn't updated since September even though I promised an update soon. So uhhhh… have this. If you were wondering why Kouichi is in the tags, here he is. Expect another chapter uhhh sometime. In a month maybe.   
> Ironically, I'm posting this pre-written chapter about Ken getting a therapist right after I got a new therapist.

The weekend creeps up on him fast. Daisuke scheduled an appointment for him on Saturday, and Ken couldn’t be any less mentally prepared.

“It’ll be fine,” Daisuke says. “If you don’t like him, we’ll just find a different one.”

Saturday morning, they leave before the Digimon wake up, leaving a note on the counter saying they had to go to a doctor’s appointment. Ken’s knee bounces nonstop with anxiety as Daisuke drives a few blocks away to the medical center. 

Daisuke talks to the front desk lady and Ken, with trembling hands, has to fill out a form. 

_ Rate how accurate these statements are on a scale of one to five. _

_ I find it hard to sleep. _

_ My appetite is abnormal.  _

_ I often think friends and family would be better off without me.  _

_ I have lost interest in things I usually take pleasure in.  _

_ I have thoughts of death and/or dying. _

Ken glances at Daisuke, who is distracted by his phone in the seat beside him. It’s almost shameful to answer the questions truthfully -- but he does, circling his answers lightly with his pencil and then standing up to give the paper to the front desk lady.

He sits back down and Daisuke takes his clammy hand in his own. “It’ll be okay,” Daisuke repeats softly. 

“Ichijouji Ken?”

A beaming man stands near the hallway. He’s dressed in a nice shirt and slacks, but not too stiflingly formal. Ken would guess the man is in his mid thirties. He takes Ken’s form from the front desk and clips it to his clipboard. “Come on back, you two.”

Ken stands, and he’s thankful for Daisuke still holding his hand, anchoring him to reality. They walk back to the man’s office. The man sits down behind his small desk. It’s littered with papers, but it’s messy in an organized kind of way. He glances quickly at Ken’s form and looks up at them, all smiles.

“I’m Dr. Kimura Kouichi,” the man says, reaching over from his desk to shake both of their hands. 

“You already know from over the phone, but Motomiya Daisuke,” Daisuke introduces himself. 

“Ichijouji Ken,” Ken says, even though Dr. Kimura Kouichi already knows that.

“Mr. Motomiya told me a lot about you,” the doctor says to him. “Nice to finally meet you!”

Ken wonders how much, exactly, Daisuke said about him over the phone. 

They sit down on the couch and Dr. Kimura leans back in his desk chair. Ken braces himself for an invasive question, and his inevitable mental shutdown. 

“So how old are you gentlemen? You still in school so you can enjoy the summer?”

To Ken’s relief, Daisuke answers. “We just finished our first years in college,” he explains, then says where they go to school. It’s all pleasantries, and Ken doesn’t mind -- as long as they’re not berating him with questions.

Dr. Kimura pretends to be interested in what Daisuke is saying. Or maybe he really is interested; Ken can’t tell. Then he asks Daisuke to step out of the room so he can talk to Ken one-on-one. “Is that okay with you?” the doctor asks Ken, and Ken nods, betraying his racing heart. Daisuke leaves the room, and so Ken is left alone with the approachable, friendly looking man. 

Dr. Kimura suddenly snaps his fingers, startling Ken. “ _ Now  _ I remember where I know your name from! You’re the genius boy and one of the kids who saved the world a few years ago.”

“That would be me,” Ken admits.

“You know,” Dr. Kimura says, suddenly lost in thought. “I was brought into the Digital World too.”

Ken’s mind reels.  _ Is he joking?  _

“I was part of a group of kids led to the Digital World more than twenty years ago now,” he explains. “But when we saw your group on TV, we chose not to say anything. The evil had already been defeated, and it’s not like we had Digimon like yours to fight with anymore.”   
“You don’t? Where is your Digimon, then?” Ken asks.

Dr. Kimura smiles. “We never had any. We fused with Digimon spirits.”

“Wha-What?” Ken thinks he  _ has  _ to be joking now.

“I know. But I was glad to see that you and your group weren’t throwing  _ yourselves  _ into battle. You were only young kids, after all.”

“How old were you when you were Chosen?” Ken asks.

“Chosen?” Dr. Kimura laughs a little. “That’s a way to put it. I was thirteen.”

“You were young, too.”

Dr. Kimura nods, almost lost in thought, perhaps recalling his first time in the Digital World. “When were you ‘Chosen’?”

Ken fingers a loose seam on the couch. “Ten.”

Dr. Kimura blinks. “That’s quite young. A lot of pressure must have been put on you. That, on top of your physical appearance in the real world.”

He nods.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what circumstances brought you into the Digital World? Because mine were… unusual, to say the least.”

The brakes squealing too late, blood pooling on the asphalt. Footprints of red and blood stained on the soles of his shoes. Screaming and screaming and bright flowers propped up against cold stone. The dull Dark Ocean, as grey as the man’s skin --

Dr. Kimura looks at him intently.

Ken looks down again, ashamed. “Sorry; can I tell you another time?”

“Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable doing.” Dr. Kimura changes the subject. “So, tell me about your Digimon partner.”

“I kind of have two.” Ken tells him about Wormmon and Veemon, and how they can Jogress into Paildramon, how his and Daisuke’s hearts are connected with that bond.

“That’s incredible!” Dr. Kimura says. “So you and your partners are quite close, then?”

“Yeah, we are. They’re basically extensions of me and Daisuke.” Ken frowns, and tiptoes into a subject that Dr. Kimura is probably trying to get at. “They don’t know a lot of my… mental problems, though. I feel bad hiding it from them.”

“Mhmm. Are you afraid of how they’d react?”

“I don’t know they’d… they wouldn’t react badly, but poor Wormmon would worry himself sick over me. I think he already does. He knows I’m hiding something.”

Dr. Kimura considers this. “Perhaps if you’re honest with him, he won’t worry that you’re hiding anything from him anymore. That might relieve some of his worry.”

Ken knows his therapist is right. 

“Since we’re running out of time for this session… Mr. Motomiya  told me about your self-destructive behaviors.”

Ken feels his heart skip a beat and adrenaline course through his body, a flight or fight response. Thankfully, Dr. Kimura doesn’t ask him to speak. Ken only listens as he lists some coping mechanisms. Distraction, ripping up or scribbling on paper, rubbing ice on his skin. They also discuss antidepressants, and Dr. Kimura prescribes a medicine, explaining that in four to six weeks he should notice a positive difference. If not, they’ll switch his prescription.

Out of time, Dr. Kimura and Ken head back into the waiting room. The doctor explains to Daisuke a few coping mechanisms and the medicine he’s prescribed Ken. A medicine that should help with both his depression and anxiety. To be taken once a day, preferably on a full stomach. Daisuke glances at Ken at this -- it’s difficult to get him to eat consistently nowadays.

Daisuke and Ken both thank Dr. Kimura. It’s only until they walk out of the building that Ken realizes how much he’s shaking with relief.

“Dr. Kimura said I should tell the Digimon,” Ken says. “Because they’re so worried, you know.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Daisuke agrees. “Wanna do that after we pick up the prescription and get home?”

Ken replies, “Yeah,” swallowing his panic.  _ It’ll be fine.  _

***

“You’re home!” Veemon calls out atop the kitchen counter, hands casually clasped behind his back. 

Veemon, did you eat all the chocolates?” Daisuke accuses, hands on his hips.

The small blue dragon Digimon struggles to defend himself. “Not all of them!” He shows his human partner a half-empty box.

“Not all his fault… I had some,” Wormmon admits sheepishly.

“Anyways, where were you guys? You missed me absolutely destroying Wormmon at Mario Kart!” Veemon announces proudly.

“Only because you have opposable thumbs!” Wormmon protests from the ground, holding up his front claws. “I only have these things.”

Ken says, “That  _ is  _ true, Veemon. Let him have a chance while he’s Stingmon.”

Veemon huffs at that. “I’d still win!”

“Aaanyway,” Daisuke says, rolling his eyes at Veemon, even though he himself would act the same way. “We should tell you guys where we were.”

Wormmon uses his sticky net to get up on the counter. Ken pulls out a stool and sits down, collecting himself.

“So you know how sometimes I don’t feel well, even though I’m not sick?”

Both partners nod.

“That’s because I have mental sickness, not a physical one. There’s a chemical imbalance in my brain that causes it not to work properly.”

“Oh…” Veemon said. “So that’s why you get all sad even though there’s nothing to be sad about?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Wormmon asks, expression unreadable. Daisuke reaches out to pet him, in an attempt to comfort the Digimon.

“Well, sometimes people with mental illnesses do something to themselves. I was trying to hide it, even from Daisuke.”

“What do you mean?” Veemon says.

“I… cut myself.” The words hang in the air and Ken feels his stomach churn, even though there’s nothing that could be churning. He’s never said those words out loud before. Out of the corner of his eye he sees his boyfriend’s hand stopped in the middle of a petting motion on Wormmon’s carapace.

“Why do you do that?” Wormmon asks softly. “Doesn’t it hurt?” Neither of the Digimon seem to immediately understand.

“It does, but it’s a…” Ken doesn't know how to describe it. “A distraction.”  _ And a punishment.  _ “It’s hard to explain. I guess I just do it.”

Wormmon’s whole small body trembles. “I remember when your sleeve rolled up and I saw a pretty bad mark. You said you were just clumsy.”

Ken looks down, suddenly not able to meet his partner’s eyes. “I’m sorry for lying to you, Wormmon. And Veemon.”

“I knew something was wrong,” says Wormmon. “I  _ know  _ you, Ken.”

“Ken…” Veemon says, a tint of sadness in his voice. “I don’t really understand, but it sounds horrible. Is there any way to fix your brain?”

“Mhm. There are doctors that specialize in that kind of thing. Therapists. That’s where I went this morning. He prescribed me a medicine that could help me, and I’ll be going there every weekend. You know, he was also a Chosen Child.”

He’s relieved to change the topic. His boyfriend looks less tense and the Digimon slightly less upset as they talk about Dr. Kimura.

“ _ Fuse  _ with Digimon?” Veemon cries, awestruck. “Is your doctor a Legendary Warrior?”

The Digimon explain how the Legendary Warriors were sent to the Digital World to save it from an evil-turned ancient ruler, Cherubimon. Their souls became one with Digimon to fight the war. “Of course, it’s just a myth,” says Wormmon. “And it was a long time ago.”

“Well, time’s wonky in the Digital World compared to here,” Daisuke muses. “So I guess he really is one of the Legendary Warriors. Koshirou and Gennai would love to hear all about this.”

So would Ken. He makes a mental note to ask Dr. Kimura more about it in future sessions. What luck he has, getting a therapist who has also presumably been through a lot in the Digital World. No one comes back the same, after all. Maybe Kimura Kouichi really will understand him.

 


End file.
